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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30057150">show me where my armor ends (where my skin begins)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/outspaced/pseuds/outspaced'>outspaced</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Raya and the Last Dragon (2021)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Heavy Angst, No beta we die like students with exams, Outspaced attempts to write, but not really</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:48:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30057150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/outspaced/pseuds/outspaced</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>i would chase you to the end of time, no matter how many times i walked away</i>
</p>
<p>It's been six years, six major interactions between Raya and Namaari as they chase dragons, chase each other, learn to grieve and learn to love. Six years they spend growing and hurting and healing and hoping.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Namaari &amp; Raya (Disney), Namaari/Raya (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>186</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Long</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Look, I'm not happy with this representation, I have my fair share of criticism for what Disney as done but as a Southeast Asian, this movie is pretty cool. They can do better but this is better than nothing. And I had to help myself, as a sapphic SEAsian. No beta so all mistakes are mine, please point them out so I can correct them. I took some liberty with the world building but at the same time, I am Chinese and not Thai or Viet or Indo or Filo, which seem to be Disneys main sources of inspiration. (SEA's a lot bigger than that c'mon)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Long means what it does in the common tongue, it means to measure a great distance from end to end, something that lasts or takes a great amount of time. Long has always come with this connotation of great, of immense, of something large; four simple letters that take up so much space without taking up any at all. But in Kumandra, in some of the dialects, pronounced differently but spelt the same, it means <i>dragon.</i> Some explained that it was because dragons had long memories, others that the dragons’ bodies are long. Some say that dragons are great and immense in their power, others say that it is just a coincidence. Nobody really knows. </p>
<p>It had been a while since the Incident, that’s what Namaari has chosen to call it— not <i>my</i> Incident, just <i>the</i> Incident. Perhaps long from some point of view but really, just a matter of months. How many months it has been, Namaari can’t be entirely certain. She’s grown up in what these few months have been, learned to fight better, lead her people better, protect her people from harm better. From the Druun.</p>
<p>
  <i>And who unleashed the Druun?</i>
</p>
<p>She pushes the thought from her mind because in these few months, she’s also become accustomed to another voice in her head, one that always questions, always accuses, who won’t ever leave her alone. But she has no time to second-guess her actions, to have any doubts because she is the Princess of Fang Land— although she always detested that label. Princess means someone prim and proper and fancy and everything she isn't— and she has to do what is best for her people. She has no time to grieve over what might have been, so she keeps these thoughts to herself, never bringing them up even when her mother asks what her little morning mist has on her mind that makes her frown at the dinner table. </p>
<p>“I miss the taste of rice,” is all she can say in response. She keeps it to herself that the last time she had rice, she shared it with Raya at the summit, together with Tom Yam and fresh mangos and everything so richly abundant that only Heart can give away so freely. She keeps it to herself how they’d poured over bits of dragon lore and actually bonded. She’d actually bonded with someone that was her age. They… could have been friends.</p>
<p>Dep’la. <i>That’s not just friends and you know that.</i></p>
<p>The first time Namaari saw Raya, she wasn’t expecting her at all. </p>
<p>Somewhere, somehow, she’d figured that Raya had been turned to stone with the rest of the Heart Tribe. As she stood on the boat, her mother’s approving hand on her shoulder, she had not seen Raya amongst the faces of those fleeing the Druun. She’d told herself that there’s nothing she could do, that she’d done what was best for her tribe as she was supposed to. She’d told herself that it didn’t mean anything over an acquaintance of a few hours as she peered in the fog, desperately hoping to catch the glimpse of the girl. </p>
<p>People poured out of Heart, all of the other tribes making a quick getaway with what they had and a few lucky— or would they be considered unlucky?— members of the Heart Tribe fleeing with the rest, to end up refugees in some foreign land. Namaari, even then, had wondered what it would mean for them to be the sole survivors of the tribe, to lose everyone they loved, to be burdened with the thought that they should have swapped places with their child, their spouse, the poor kids who roamed the streets and had a whole life ahead of them. She did not yet know the name of survivor’s guilt but she, too, would end up haunted by it.</p>
<p>
  <i>You could have saved Raya.</i>
</p>
<p>It hurt more that her last image of her had been her struggling to balance her Ba’s bodyweight, not caring about anything other than her last family member. Raya was never, never selfish. She could have taken the gem and run, could have saved herself but she carried her father, trying to make him keep going. Raya couldn't have left him behind. She was too good, too kind, there was no place for a person like her in this broken world. There was no way she could have gotten out in time. </p>
<p>
  <i>It was necessary.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>It was good.</i>
</p>
<p><i>She called me</i> dep’la <i>before I betrayed her.</i></p>
<p>
  <i>And I said it back.</i>
</p>
<p>Namaari steels herself, pushing the thought out of her mind.</p>
<p>But that flakes off like a scab as she wanders around the ghost town that Heart has become. They were the first victims of the Druun, unable to flee like the rest of the tribes and everywhere she looks, a layer of dust has settled over the statues. They’re perfectly intact, not a single one cracked because there is nothing here to crack them. It has barely rained in Heart since the Incident so even their features are still sharp, not yet worn away by the water. Namaari had heard reports of drizzles but nothing more in this deserted wasteland. </p>
<p>Barely anyone dares to venture into Heart these days but the reports are true. Druun aren’t the only reason why they don’t go there anymore; there have been rumors of fierce bandits, scouts return with nothing more than the clothes on their backs and their mounts if they’re lucky. People returned spooked, swearing off ever returning to that land because of something that they’ve seen most. Most of them won’t talk about it, those that can be persuaded to talk about it are incoherent.</p>
<p>That’s what made Namaari decide to come here. A little part just clings on to the hope that Raya’s out there, somewhere, alive, tormenting all those Fang scouts. Her heart is not yet hard enough to be directly responsible for the death of a girl who so wholeheartedly trusted her and be okay with it. So much has turned to stone in these fews months but her heart has not. She realizes now that it’s entirely likely that Raya isn’t here, that the combined heat and unsettling presence of the unnaturally still land and the Druun drove the scouts to near insanity. She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.</p>
<p>Raya’s gone.</p>
<p>
  <i>You killed her.</i>
</p>
<p>But Namaari can’t leave until she has proof, until she catches a glimpse of Raya’s still body, until she can see that and… she doesn’t know— she can’t— she’ll destroy herself with a fresh wave of guilt because the feel of Raya’s warm hand in hers is still fresh in her mind. She can remember how Raya took her hand and dragged her off, how her heart caught in her throat as Raya laughed, the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.</p>
<p>Namaari can’t move on with the sound of her own laughter ringing in her ears, her heart pounding in her chest, remembering the way her face heated up and Raya pressed a soft finger into her red cheek, teasing. She can’t move on, heart forever chasing that feeling of being so light, of being free that she got from being around Raya. She can’t just forget about some girl— no, Raya is more than some girl to her. She is, she was, a friend and she means something. </p>
<p>
  <i>Does she? You were so quick to betray her.</i>
</p>
<p>But Namaari thinks of Raya’s trusting eyes and innocent smile and she has to know.</p>
<p>If she doesn’t, she’ll forever have a what-if in her mind, forever cling to the false hope that she didn’t kill the first genuine friend she ever had. Even with her so-called friends in Fang, it’s always come with treating her as the daughter of the chieftess, not as her own person, without any of the trust Raya so readily gave. </p>
<p>So, Namaari continues to wander what is left of the city, knowing she’s safe until sundown and that it’s barely noon right now. The statues all face the same direction, she realizes, heads bowed and hands cupped together like they await an offering. What does that posture mean, Namaari isn’t quite sure, as she hurries off away from a group of statues… of little children inside a hut with toys strewn around them. </p>
<p>The Druun has not neatened out one of their misaligned collars or another’s too-big shirt that is slipping off their shoulder nor the hair ribbon of another that seems to have been in the process of falling off. The children are barefoot, just commoners who had no part in what had gone down, with unhealed wounds on their legs. The petrification had not smoothed over their skin or healed their scars. They are exactly what they are: children.</p>
<p>The Druun froze them exactly as they were. </p>
<p>There is no mercy for the young, for the innocent.</p>
<p>
  <i>This is what you've done.</i>
</p>
<p>How could Raya have survived this? She should just… turn around and go home and swear off stepping foot in Heart ever again, just as the rest of her people who have ventured far into the land have done. There is no way, she tells herself, as she overlooks a wall to the bridge where she had last seen Raya.</p>
<p>There is no way, she tells herself, like a prayer because somehow, it’s beginning to occur to Namaari that a fate of being forever frozen in time with her father is kinder than being the last one standing, that it’s kinder than fighting for survival all these months, than whatever left she will have to see. There are many things, she realizes, worse than being stuck as a statue, blissfully unaware of the world around you.</p>
<p>There’s no way, Namaari tells herself, as she looks over and sees a little figure by her father’s statue. </p>
<p>
  <i>No, no, no… no… </i>
</p>
<p>But there Raya is, moving. There Raya is, cleaning her father with a washcloth, keeping the dust off him. </p>
<p>Raya… alive.</p>
<p>Certainly not safe and not as well fed as she once was, the same size or perhaps even smaller than she had been when Namaari last saw her at the summit, although the distance makes it difficult t tell. But she’s here. </p>
<p>First, the relief of knowing that she hasn’t killed the only true friend she’s had, even for a few hours. The sweet relief that overwhelms her, to know that Raya is still alive and that in itself means that there is hope.</p>
<p>Then, the guilt. </p>
<p>The guilt is crushing. It sweeps Namaari, tossing her around the dark ocean of grief she has not yet let herself grieve, something that could drown her given time. She drops one of her blades with a clatter, ducking down just as Raya looks up to the source of the noise.</p>
<p>The noise echoes through the empty land, ringing out for miles. </p>
<p>All this while, she’s been here.</p>
<p>
  <i>Which means you abandoned her. You could have picked her up and brought her back to Fang because your mother’s grievance is not against a girl who could be her own daughter. You could’ve been happy together but instead while you returned to the comfort of your mother, you left her alone.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Alone. </i>
</p>
<p>Raya sets the cloth down, unsheathes a sword far too large for a thin frame and offers it at her father’s feet. She places a dried flower in his hand— it has been far too long since it rained for there to be any fresh ones around, Namaari realizes, cautiously peeking out from behind the wall— and kneels. Raya prays, hands a circle, something that she can’t hear.</p>
<p>And so many metres away, still unseen, Namaari gets on her knees. </p>
<p>“Oh mighty Sisu, this Land under your blessing, our lives in debt at your hands, your sacrifice for our people…” and she can’t say the rest. The words don’t come out, her lips forming them soundlessly. Already, the first part has been a lie. Heart is not blessed, the people certainly don’t act like they are in debt and… her sacrifice has all been in vain. </p>
<p>People, as people do, have taken everything they have and thrown it away, because they can never be content sharing with others.</p>
<p>
  <i>And weren’t you the one who incited that?</i>
</p>
<p>Namaari frowns, pushing the voice to the furthest corner of her mind.</p>
<p>
  <i>Oh mighty Sisudatu, extend your protection— please— Sisu, I’ve always treated you as a friend, or so I thought but I’ve done some things that cannot be forgiven. No matter what I’ve done, none of it was Raya’s fault. It was never her fault for trusting me, it was only mine for betraying her. Please, protect her. I don’t need your forgiveness, I just don’t want Raya to pay any more of the price that should have been mine alone.</i>
</p>
<p><i>Take care of her, don’t let her come to harm please. I can’t do anything but pray and pray and hope that somewhere you’re out there listening to me. I don’t want anything for myself, I only want to make it up to Raya and I can never do that so please… do this for me. Don’t let her circumstances take away her innocence, don’t break her anymore than I have already done.</i> </p>
<p><i>We need more people who can love and trust in this world, who still believe in the good of the people. Don’t take this away from Raya over a stupid mistake I made.</i> </p>
<p>
  <i>Please, Sisudatu. I leave this in your hands.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Please.</i>
</p>
<p>What does that word even mean? The dragons owe Namaari nothing, especially after what she did. Adding a please to a ridiculous request isn’t going to curry any favor, it’s not going to help change their minds. Because she needs to get what she deserves. For everything that Namaari has done, she deserves to be in Raya’s place, she deserves to feel what Raya is feeling. She feels—</p>
<p>A blade prodding against her back. </p>
<p>“I <i>thought</i> I saw you, <i>binturi.”</i></p>
<p>And there Raya is, her father’s sword too big for her body but she carries it anyway with fury glittering in her eyes. She knocks Namaari back down, just as she’s about to get up, the blade just under her chin. </p>
<p>“Raya, I—” Namaari gasps but what is there to say. <i>Really, what is there to say to the girl whose life you ruined,</i> binturi? </p>
<p>“Why did you come here? Just to show off to me? Why can’t you just stay in your horrible Fang Land with your horrible mother who probably cooks you horrible food and be happy that I don’t have any parents left to take care of me?!” Her voice raises to a shout at the end, higher pitched and childish because Raya… is a child. At the end of it, Raya is a child. And so is Namaari but they don’t look like it anymore, with dirt on their faces and sharp blades in their hands that have tasted blood once before and will certainly taste it again. </p>
<p>“Is it not enough that you ruin everything? Do you have to gloat about it as well?”</p>
<p>And in this time, in this weakness, Namaari has gotten to her feet, out of the little corner and unsheathed her blades. She knows a fight is coming, she’d be a fool to think otherwise. </p>
<p>Raya has barely aged and aged too much in these few months. She’s thinner, smaller without the abundance that Heart once had, her clothes hand off enough to reveal her bones just beneath her skin as her arms tremble, from the lack of strength or something else entirely. Her eyes are so much older, that innocent spark that Namaari had been praying for now gone, with only shattered glass and dreams left to take its place. </p>
<p>With a cry, Raya lunges. </p>
<p>Her slashes are sloppy and Namaari sidesteps them easily, arms still by her side with her blades pointed to the ground. She might not even have had to unsheathe them, she realizes, might not even have had to bring anything more than the wooden training blades she onced used many years ago. She doesn’t need to try because all Raya does is miss and miss and miss her father. Tears stream down Raya’s face, blurring her vision as she stabs wildly, the sword disconnecting and extending as she lets out a wide swoop but all Namaari has to do is to duck to avoid it. It’s like a dance, stepping back, stepping to the side, ducking, hopping, stepping again.</p>
<p>All while Raya cries and shouts and curses the other girl out, Namaari steps back and back and back, refusing to lift a finger because this is what she deserves. She deserves for Raya to strike her down, to have her revenge because that’s the least she can do to elevate the pain. If Raya draws blood, if she smites her where she stands, so be it but she will give Raya the honor of a fair fight and for that, she dodges.</p>
<p>“You took everything from me. <i>Everything!</i> Just take me now,” Raya howls, a messy strike coming a little close to Namaari so she raises her weapon to parry it away. “Don’t pretend to be the good guy after what you’ve done. Fight me, <i>binturi,</i> fight me,” Raya says, as if she can somehow bait Namaari into fighting back. </p>
<p>Maybe she can. </p>
<p>“Fight me.”</p>
<p>Raya is behind Namaari now, her blade at the other girl’s throat. </p>
<p>“I know you can do it. Just fight back, <i>fight.</i> Stop trying to be better than you are!” Raya spits, slowly bringing the sword closer and closer and…</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Namaari slips out from under the hold with the little leeway that she’s been given. </p>
<p>“What is <i>wrong</i> with you?! Is it that hard? Just fight me, <i>fight me!</i> Stop being all holier-than-thou and finish me off. You’ve already killed my tribe, now kill me!”Raya cries out, on her knees, with all manner of tears and blood—  from when her whip slashed her own cheek in her recklessness— running down her face, voice hoarse. Her arms tremble as she holds out the sword. </p>
<p><i>“Kill me,”</i> and that is a plea.</p>
<p>Namaari just straightens up, face blank, and walks away. </p>
<p><i>Kill me</i> and as Namaari walks away, it sounds so much like <i>help me</i> and she wonders, for just a moment, what decision she’s making by walking away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry if these seems sloppier than the previous chapter, I just so badly want to explore Kumandra and the culture that I went a little off track. Also, if any of the lines are wrong, do tell me because I had to google translate whatever wasn't Chinese or basic Malay. If the games they play seem more Singaporean, I'm drawing on from my childhood. I know it's not as good but I promise it's going somewhere and my school holidays are ending so I really just want to get this out a little faster</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time is relative, they say. Still, a year is a year, no matter how you look at it. Perhaps, it can only vary in the length of it, because a year can pass and it can feel like so much less or so much more. Only the counting of the moons mark it as nearly a year, only the ebb and flow of the tides, of the water levels in the canals as the monsoon rains come and go; only the turning of the seasons indicate that a year has come and gone. It could’ve been a matter of months really.</p><p>Time is the same everywhere but it is not because it has been a year for Namaari to train, to learn, to serve. It feels like time has passed all too fast as she keeps busy leading her people, learning her role as the daughter of the chief and it feels like time has passed all too slow in a particularly boring lesson about the theory of agriculture and how plants and livestock really don’t care what theory says in reality. What’s the point of learning the theory of farming and other things then, Namaari isn’t sure but she tries because she needs to be better, stronger. She can’t afford, her people cannot afford, to make any mistakes. As much as she doesn’t have time to think about the past, she has to learn from her mistakes then. There is no room to fail when you’re in charge.</p><p>It has been a year without Chief Benja’s peace summits and invitations to Heart, but she doesn’t have time to think about that. There are more important things, like trades with the other lands to organize and temporary treaties with other lands to ensure that these trades can come through unharmed. And there is tallying the number of people who venture out and don’t make it back because of the Druun.</p><p>And though it feels so much longer and so much shorter at the same time, the way it does when one is struggling to get by, it has been a year for Raya’s heart to turn to stone. She doesn’t realize at first, she doesn’t realize it at all because you never see subtle changes, you only see the accumulation of them. Because all this while, Namaari has been praying to the dragons to protect Raya, Raya has had to protect herself. She has had time to think about what has happened and what that means and she has had time to realize that she can’t survive by trusting people.</p><p>Namaari lives in the comfort that Raya can no longer have. She can show up to Talon in a gesture of peace, greet the tribe leader with a gift and with her bodyguards to ensure she won’t be messed with, at the risk of Fang’s wrath, buy a gift for her mother’s birthday or a little treat for herself— everyone knows that Talon is home to the best street food— and leave without an issue. She’s doing exactly that now, with her cerlot padding at her heels and her bodyguards behind. </p><p>Weapons are sheathed and strapped across backs in a symbol of… of trust, she supposes, although there isn’t much in the air. People con outsiders on every turn, once they know you don’t belong to the market, you’re prey but they respect diplomatic envoys, higher up officials. Everyone’s stretched so thin now, even if the lively market doesn’t look like it, nobody can afford a war. So Namaari walks with her head up high, as the commoners cut a path for her. </p><p>“Cheap <i> zha sui! Hao chi, bu gui!”</i></p><p><i>“Kalahating presyo,</i> limited!”</p><p><i>“Goong yang, goong yang!</i> Fresh here only!”</p><p>“Ten piece, one jade! <i>Giá tốt nhất!”</i></p><p>Vendors call out, some in dialect, some in common tongue, most a mixture of both. It’s oddly refreshing, to hear them marketing their wares and dishes, enticing customers with the smells and sounds. It’s a uniquely Kumandran cacophony, because not everyone here is native to Talon and that’s okay. It’s one of the last places where you can hear this, where you can hear the melody of people’s hearts beating in unity.</p><p>Namaari ducks under a hanging display, squatting down to let a group of children pet her cerlot and play a game of <i>zha</i> against one of them because they bet that they could beat her. They could, in fact, beat her. Other groups of children sit behind stalls run by their relatives, congregating at corners to flip small pieces of rubber or <i>kuti kuti,</i> a pair of twins manning a stall play <i>chapteh</i> while they wait for customers. </p><p><i>“Puan,</i> want to buy?” A little boy tugs on her hand, gap-toothed and smiling. His dark hair is a ruffled mess, a necklace to ward off evil around his neck, round eyes so full of innocence. Round eyes so remnant of… never mind.</p><p>Namaari smiles back, trading jade for sparklers and bomb bags and a loose handful of glass marbles which she passes to the next group of children she sees. These aren’t her people, aren’t her responsibility but the children smiling is more than she could ever ask for. </p><p><i> “Ini, ambillah,”</i> she tells one of the children who stares at her in wonder. “Take? <i>Na? Ao? Yok?”</i> She can’t quite figure out how else you can communicate that idea. The child doesn’t understand so she takes their fist, uncurling it and presses the toy into their hand. </p><p>It’s so easy to be a little kind but where was this when Raya trusted her? Where was this generosity when everyone rushed to snatch pieces of the Dragon Gem? Strolling under the strung up lanterns, the brightly colored lights that drown out the stars, Namaari whispers a prayer on her lips. This won’t atone for what happened in the past but these children hold no responsibility for what happened in Heart.</p><p>
  <i>And still, they will bear the consequences.</i>
</p><p>Namaari sighs. </p><p>There’s only so much she can do to preserve the innocence, the happiness, of children just a handful of years younger than she is. There is only so much escape she can have from her responsibilities in Fang, between the bodyguards and the voice in her head.</p><p>
  <i>You have no reason to pity yourself— </i>
</p><p>A shadow flies across, sweeping above the roofs of stalls, quietly thudding but loud enough that Namaari can hear. The rest of the market seems unfazed but— </p><p>“Come on, <i>dep’la!</i> Come get me!”</p><p>Raya?</p><p>She can recognize that voice anywhere and it would be a lie to say Namaari’s heart didn’t catch in her throat at <i>dep’la,</i> at Raya saying <i>dep’la.</i> It snaps her out of everything and she does the only logical thing: she gives chase. </p><p>It’s clumsy, scrambling up to follow the shadow like two kids in a game of catching. They soar over the market, in between stalls, through back alleys. The wind flies out of their lungs, mussing up their hair and it’s a struggle not to lose each other to the crowd. Surprisingly, nothing gets knocked over, the Talon stallholders don’t even bat an eye as Namaari pursues Raya. </p><p>And finally Namaari corners her in a back alley, panting and out of breath. </p><p>Raya glares up, cheeks flushed. </p><p>“Wh- What are you doing here?!” she cries, indignant. “I didn’t ask you to come chase me!” But she is as out of breath as Namaari and unfortunately backed into a corner that it doesn’t come across as anything intimidating. </p><p>“You told me to chase you,” is all Namaari can say, in between gasps for air. </p><p>Raya frowns (she’s so much prettier when she’s smiling, Namaari can’t help but think). <i>“Toi,</i> are you stupid! I told Chea to chase me, not <i>you.</i>” She spits it out like a curse and it hurts a little more than it should have. </p><p>Just then, someone just about their age tumbles into the alley way, messy hair tied into a bun.</p><p>“I— I caught up to you, Raya!” And then, a pause. And then, “Huh? Who’s that?”</p><p>“I’ve got something to settle, I’ll find you at your <i>Ahgong’s</i> stall later, okay?” </p><p>Raya shoos the kid away easily, before fixing her attention back on Namaari. </p><p>“I never thought you’d be here all of all places, <i>binturi.</i> Why’d you think I’d call you <i>dep’la</i> after everything you did?” Raya snarls, slowly pushing herself off the wall. But she is unarmed and all she can do is bare her teeth in a way that is only resemblant of cerlot. “Did you,” she laughs, she honest-to-goodness laughs, “did you <i>really</i> think I’d call you that?”</p><p>“I— I thought…” </p><p>	<i>What did you think, really? Why would you even think that?</i></p><p>	It really feels like Namaari is the one pinned against the wall in a corner right now, the one at Raya’s mercy. And she swallows something in her throat, maybe embarrassment, maybe jealousy that Raya can go around using that term on anybody that she wants to. </p><p>	Raya just tilts her head, genuinely curious or mocking, Namaari can’t quite tell. “Do you really think about me calling you <i>dep’la?”</i> Her voice is quieter now as she moves off the wall, closer and closer to Namaari and some rational part of Namaari’s mind tells her to step back but she remains frozen in place. “Does that keep you up at night, Princess?” Raya’s fingers ghost Namaari’s face. <i>“Does it?”</i></p><p>	Namaari swallows again, face heating up from more than just the sprint she had chasing Raya, because she honestly doesn’t know what went through her mind just now and what’s going through her mind now. </p><p>	“One of your cats got your tongue, <i>dep’la?”</i></p><p>	And that is enough. She pushes Raya back against the wall with a growl. “Stop messing with me! I’m always at the Talon market, what’s new is you.”</p><p>	“Maybe you just don’t look hard enough.”</p><p>	“Do you want to bet on that,” and she leans closer, breath tickling Raya’s face, “Princess?”</p><p>	It’s Raya’s turn to become red, backing herself further into the wall but when she speaks, it’s low, dangerous. “Don’t call me that,” and it’s quiet, “don’t call me that when you left me with no people to be the princess of,” and it’s a little sad.</p><p>	Namaari stumbles back because… she’s forgotten and she hates how she has the privilege to forget that while she’s here to have fun, Raya’s just trying to get by. Because Namaari doesn’t know what it is to be twelve years old, you against the world, nobody left on your side. Because Namaari has been in the very heart of Fang (and there goes the irony, the cursed irony), well-fed with her every need taken care of. </p><p>	“Raya, I—” Here goes nothing but it’s so long overdue, a year overdue. “I was wondering if you’d like to come to Fang with me. Ma would let you stay… it’ll be better than…”</p><p>	“Than what?” Raya snaps, suddenly defensive and free from Namaari. </p><p>	“I just… you could come stay with us, come home with me.”</p><p>	“Well, in case you’ve forgotten, <i>Princess,</i> my home is in Heart and I didn’t come to Talon just to mess around, I’m here on business. I will not step foot into the traitor’s land in peace, I will never willingly follow you and betray my tribe. I’ll never be one of you awful traitors.”</p><p>	And those are big words for a thirteen, nearly fourteen, year old. It’s a big world when you’re out surviving on your own.</p><p>	“It sure doesn’t look like you’re here on business.” Namaari spits. “Where’s your royal guards? Right, you don’t have any.”</p><p>	“That’s because of you! It’s all your fault, it’s always your fault!”</p><p>	“I’m here making you an offer, I’m being nice and you say these things about my people—”</p><p>	“You <i>killed</i>  my people!”</p><p>	And Raya flees into the darkness, wiping tears from her face, leaving Namaari in the alley, aching from rejection.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Also, that Genshin Impact reference</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I initially planned to post it as a complete work but I wasn't sure how long it would take so accept my humble offering for now.</p>
<p>Outspacxd on twitter, say hi!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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